Cold Season

by Randeep Dhiman

No matter how many times Jill swallowed, she could not soothe the scratchiness that sat like a burr caught in the back of her throat. She could feel her left eye twitch each time her attempt to breathe clearly was met with these barbs of resistance, and could feel a fever rising, too, creating tiny beads of sweat on her nose and a dizzying chill as she sat wedged between the commuters on the bus. No doubt they were all watching her, she thought. She reached into her sweater to retrieve one of the tissues that lurked, pre-wadded, in all of her pockets, and tried to dab inconspicuously at the accumulating shine. The man to her left coughed and shifted. Best to get off at the next stop and walk the rest of the way.